Reality is not a game.
In games, simply adding a character to your party—without even deploying them—will steadily increase bond points. But reality is different.
Without conversation, without communication, without the exchange of hearts… how could you possibly expect mutual understanding to grow?
Even as she gazed upon that radiance, the knight known as 'Mordred' saw nothing more than the King of Knights, so brilliant that not a trace of humanity remained.
Did Mordred know that Artoria was stubborn by nature? That she dreamed of little lions? That despite being blessed by the Lady of the Lake, she was actually not very good at swimming?
When the idealized King of Knights clashed with reality, which version should she reject, and which should she believe?
"I think I understand what you mean, Sakatsuki," Artoria said, glancing at him without much emotion, her tone carrying only a faint melancholy.
"But in life… I never had the time for such things."
War, governance, disaster relief, raising armies again—such was the life of King Arthur, with no room for leisure.
"I know." As a devoted follower of the king, Sakatsuki was well aware. But that wasn't his point.
"What I mean is—what about now? Now, a thousand years later, summoned by Chaldea and reunited with Mordred?"
Sakatsuki turned, his golden eyes quietly fixed on this 'girl.'
"Even knowing of her existence, you still keep your distance. Is this truly your choice, my king?"
This was a knight of the Round Table questioning his king. Even without the weight of punishment, Artoria could not ignore the inquiry. Yet her answer remained feeble.
"I… cannot answer that."
Seeing Artoria's helplessness, Sakatsuki once again felt the sheer complexity of her relationship with Mordred. He took a deep breath and spoke solemnly:
"Is it because of what Mordred said? That she hates the King of Knights the most? If so, I believe I can explain—"
"No, it's not that, Sakatsuki." Artoria sighed softly. "I admit it hurt at the time, but upon reflection, I understood what Sir Mordred truly meant."
"Oh?" The skeptical lilt in his voice made Artoria shoot him a mildly reproachful look, her cheeks faintly reddening as she stammered:
"The 'King of Knights' she spoke of… was the version of me who sat upon the throne, devoid of emotion. Not the 'real' me. Right? In other words, Sir Mordred meant the opposite—that she actually likes, likes…"
"Likes King Arthur, likes Artoria, correct?" Sakatsuki chuckled. "No wonder she was sneaking into the kitchen to steal food by noon. It seems my king does have her merits after all…"
"And what is that supposed to mean, Sakatsuki?" Sensing a certain teasing undertone, Artoria puffed out her cheeks and, taking advantage of her rare height advantage, pressed a hand down on his head. "Ah, now that I think of it—I am King Arthur. How dare you banish me from the kitchen? Isn't this insubordination going a bit too far?"
"Hah, in the kitchen, there are only chefs and apprentices. Even the King of Knights is utterly useless except for crying out to be fed!"
"What?! Lord Sakatsuki, Sakatsuki! Did you just unintentionally say something incredibly hurtful?"
"Ahaha, I'm still just a kid… Don't hit my face!"
Birds scattered from the woods as ripples danced across the stream, catching the golden sunlight and shimmering like a dream.
After the commotion, Sakatsuki, his hair as messy as a bird's nest, sat on a rock, glaring resentfully at the satisfied ahoge. With a dark expression, he continued the conversation:
"If you understand Mordred's true intentions, why didn't you communicate properly with her? Is it because she destroyed the Round Table?"
"Not exactly, Lord Sakatsuki." Artoria shook her head and answered frankly, "You know I'm a Servant, a record from the Throne of Heroes, right?"
"Of course, what about it?"
"But do you remember the King of Knights who once fought alongside you in the Holy Grail War in Fuyuki—she is the true original."
Sakatsuki was startled, only to find Artoria turning her head slightly, her saintly blue eyes fixed intently on him.
"I would never forget, but why bring this up now? Unless…"
"Mm, as expected of Lord Sakatsuki. It seems you've already realized."
Her slender legs submerged in the water, Artoria averted her gaze, letting the current sway her gently.
"Regarding Mordred, my words hold no weight because I'm merely a shadow of that king—the true conclusion can only be given when the original meets Mordred."
Splash!
The gentle ripples were abruptly disturbed as the young boy on the bluestone stood up, urgently—almost roughly—grabbing Artoria's shoulders:
"So… Artoria, are you still alive? You didn't return the holy sword and enter the utopian slumber in Avalon?"
"…Are you really that eager for me to die, Sakatsuki…?"
"Answer my question!"
Faced with Sakatsuki's uncharacteristic outburst, Artoria, though puzzled, answered honestly.
"Yes. At least before my summoning, my original self's memories were of residing in Avalon, staying with the mage Merlin. Ah, Merlin is—"
"Just an old swindler." Sakatsuki cut her off with an annoyed eye roll, his emotions stabilizing. "Let me sort this out… So after letting go of your regrets, you didn't choose to end your life but instead called Merlin to take you to Avalon?"
What kind of bizarre development was this? While in FSN's perfect ending, Shirou did reach the Inner Sea of the Planet with Merlin's help and reunite with Artoria in Avalon, that ending had no context—just two lines tacked on as fan service… utterly useless as a reference.
Besides, the Fourth Holy Grail War had no Shirou, and Sakatsuki certainly didn't believe he could pull off protagonist-level charm to make the legendary King Arthur fall for him in days. Artoria, as the franchise's top heroine, wasn't as openly passionate as a certain rose emperor to just declare love out of nowhere…
So, what in the world was going on?
"I know your doubts, but please don't voice them, Lord Sakatsuki." Before Sakatsuki could ask, Artoria preemptively stopped him, shaking her head with a serious expression. "At least regarding this matter, please allow me to keep it secret."
"Oh... alright." Sakatsuki nodded blankly, then heard Artoria continue.
"There's one more thing, Lord Sakatsuki... Could you return to your original form?"
"Truly nothing escapes your notice."
Sakatsuki smiled wryly but obediently snapped his fingers. The lake's surface filled with platinum light as the child's outline gradually transformed into the tall, upright figure of a young man. He tilted his head slightly, gazing gently at the beauty beside him.
Before Sakatsuki could speak further, he felt a weight on his shoulder. To the young man's astonishment, the golden-haired maiden in her swimsuit relaxed her posture, leaning lightly against his shoulder.
"My King...?!"
"Shh... Please be quiet, Lord Sakatsuki."
Closing her eyes and savoring the comfort of their closeness, Artoria's voice was soft, almost dreamlike.
"At least for now... lend me your shoulder..."
So Sakatsuki fell silent, asking no more.
As a devoted follower of the King of Knights, how could he possibly refuse Saber's request?
Quietly suppressing the restlessness of the Imaginary Shadow, the handsome young man maintained a serene expression, his gaze distant and profound as he looked into the horizon, softly humming a soothing melody.
Leaning against his shoulder, the golden King curled her lips slightly and closed her eyes as if drifting into sleep.
Only occasionally would her murmurs be heard.
"If only... there had been a knight like you in Camelot who could understand my heart like this... how wonderful that would have been..."
***
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